


Yesterday, Tomorrow, and Forever

by jazzjo



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-07-25 11:56:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20025421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzjo/pseuds/jazzjo
Summary: Twenty-five year old Christen Press takes nine-year-old Mallory in after both her parents pass. It's a long time coming – her mother, one of Christen's closest friends, had been sick for years – and Christen had been caring for her for just as long, but with her national team and NWSL career picking up, Christen feels more out of her depth than ever.But maybe, just maybe, they've got this. Maybe their love and determination and the joy Mal gets from soccer is enough to hold them together until they find solid ground again. And maybe, just maybe, Christen doesn't have to do it all alone.





	1. Chapter 1

Mallory was hers now.

Actually hers.

The girl had nowhere else to go, and despite Christen being a little over a decade older than her, there was no doubt in Christen’s mind that she was taking the child in.

Christen had been taking care of Mallory on and off for about five years. She was best friends with Mallory’s parents — her mother had been Christen’s old babysitter — and when she had gotten sick, she had entrusted her daughter to Christen during the bad times.

There was no part of Christen that could blame Mallory’s father for being unable to care for Mal when his wife had been so ill.

There was a small part of her, though, that was livid at him for leaving his only child behind to fend for herself after her mother’s death, an orphan by all accounts.

She had gotten the call at three a.m., mumbling into the phone and jetting out of bed to get dressed and drive to the social services office.

They had just attended the funeral two days ago. Now there was going to have to be another one.

Oh, Mallory.

Christen had been in her last two years of college when Karen had gotten sick. Later, she turned down an offer to play in Sweden. Thankfully, the NWSL had come around after the previous league abruptly folded, though there had been a good amount of scrambling on Christen’s part to figure out how to put her Stanford degree to good use in the in-between.

She had stuck around for the beautiful baby girl that one of her best friends was raising, hoping that the then-four year old would not have to grow up without her mother, but knowing that it was a very real possibility. She never regretted it. Not for a moment.

Especially not now.

Mal was nine, or would be in two months, and she was alone.

Not alone. Never alone. Christen wouldn’t allow it.

Arriving at the social services office, Christen shivered a little in the cool February air as she walked in.

Andie, Mallory’s caseworker, met Christen at the door. They’d known each other a while, since Karen had started getting really, really sick and she had asked Christen to start the process to become a certified foster parent.

Like she had known this would happen.

“Hey Andie, is she back there?” Christen asked immediately, “How is she doing?”

Andie spared a small, sad smile, responding, “She’s quiet. I don’t think she’s very surprised, and I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. I can take you to her.”

“Thank you, Andie,” Christen sighed, “I’m sorry you’re working so late.”

Both women walked back into the adjoining room, smaller and painted in muted pastels. A gentle attempt that brightening the harsh vibe of the space.

Mallory looked up from her book, sitting in a small chair in the corner of the room when they walked in. She didn’t move, not until she saw Christen come in behind Andie.

When their eyes met, Mallory simply reached both her arms up in a way she hadn’t done in a long time, a simple plea to be picked up and held.

Christen did just that, crossing the room in a few quick strides and gathering the young girl into her arms, kissing her temple and holding her close.

“I’ve got you, Mal,” Christen murmured, “Yesterday, tomorrow, and forever.”

Mallory buried her face in Christen’s neck, her eyes shut tight.

Adjusting Mallory’s position on her hip — Mallory was nine, but so small she may as well still have been a six-year-old — Christen whispered a thankful prayer that she could still hold Mal like this, even if she was a little heavy.

“Can I take her?” Christen asked, turning to Andie.

Andie nodded, “I’ve told you just about everything you need to know, and you’ve basically been her primary guardian for a while. I’ll check in about paperwork for this to be moved beyond fostering, if that’s what you want to do.”

Christen paused, her mind finally catching up to the reality of the situation.

She was twenty-five, days from her first cap with the senior national team. Twenty-five.

She had spent much of her senior year of college being a third guardian to Mallory. During the long stints where Karen would be in the hospital, her husband would be right there by her side keeping vigil and Christen would shuttle little Mallory between kindergarten and the Cardinal’s soccer field, and her place.

It had taken a lot of negotiating with her schedule, figuring out her classes according to when she needed to be there for Mallory, when her parents needed her to take the child. Christen would never have traded those early days of making Mallory smile and scoring goals just for the beaming girl during practices and games, though.

Mallory made her last year of collegiate soccer worth it. Even when soccer had become more of a stressor than a joy, seeing how thrilled the ball hitting the back of the net after curving off Christen’s foot would make Mallory made it all that much more worth it.

She had turned down both Tyresö and Kopparbergs/Göteborg when they had offered to take on the then-WPS Rookie of the Year, who had played for magicJack for the season that Karen had seemed to be getting well again. Instead, she returned to California once Karen got sick again and the WPS folded, helping Paul with the Stanford women’s soccer team while picking up a part time job and caring for Mallory.

Between her long-awaited call-up to the senior national team and the recent foundation of the NWSL, Christen knew her professional life was just picking up. It had been a complex past few months, shuttling between Chicago (where the Red Stars had signed her) and California when she didn’t have games, maintaining her small senior year apartment in California while rooming with exceedingly understanding teammates in Chicago.

She was only twenty-five, far too young by most counts to have a nine-year-old but Christen had already found space for Mallory in her life.

If anything, being Mallory’s sole guardian would be far easier.

She was going to do this. She had to.

Looking back at Andie, Christen nodded, her voice steady as she spoke, “Let’s prepare to draw up adoption papers. It’s what Karen wanted. I just want to give Mal some time before I let her make the final decision.”

“Chrissy, you should ‘dopt me,” Mallory mumbled against Christen’s neck, “Mama said you would always take care of me. You promised too. I want you to.”

Christen smiled, dropping a kiss on the child’s head before turning back to Andie, “We’re doing it, then. As long as Mallory’s sure.”

The child in her arms nodded and Christen bid Andie a good night before carrying Mal out to the car, grabbing the small suitcase and backpack by the door of the office a little clumsily on their way out.

“We’re gonna be alright, yeah, Mal?” Christen assured as she buckled Mal in, “You and me. We’ve got this. We’ve got each other.”

“Love you, Chrissy,” Mal mumbled, already nodding off in the backseat.

“I love you too, Mallory,” Christen whispered to the air, sighing in relief as the child fell asleep.

Christen kept the drive home as smooth as she could, maneuvering around potholes and slowing down extra during turns. Given the number of late-night drives the two of them had been on together, starting when Mallory was much younger and fussier, Christen knew more than well that it was almost impossible to jostle the child awake.

Even so, she wanted Mal to sleep as peacefully as possible.

As she drove, Christen’s mind ran a mile a minute trying to contend with what the near future would look like. She would be headed to Florida for a friendly with Scotland in two days, and Nashville right after.

Mal had school. It was still a while out from spring break, though that would thankfully free up any concerns about school during Algarve. Christen considered it, realizing that she was the only one left to make such decisions about Mallory’s schooling, sighing so deeply she felt her bones shift and sag a little in the driver’s seat.

She would figure it out in the morning.

Once they’d returned to Christen’s small apartment, she carried Mallory and lay her gently on the bed, thankful the child was already in comfortable clothes. She then headed back outside to grab the bags and lock up.

With everything more or less in its place for the moment, Christen finally allowed herself to sink into bed beside Mallory, allowing the sleepy child to snuggle up to her as she lay as still as she could.

Christen hardly slept that night.

The next morning felt almost like any of their mornings since Christen had started to care for Mallory. She made breakfast for them both – eggs scrambled with diced peppers and spinach as well as a half-slice of toast with a smear of jam, a small cup of milk for Mal, and a mug of tea for Christen.

The toast had started when Mal had stuck her finger in the jam on Christen’s toast one morning when she was six, and then claimed it as hers. Christen had cut the slice in half for them to share, and the rest, as they say, was history.

Mal had chosen to return to her book after breakfast, finishing up the first Harry Potter.

After cleaning up, Christen found herself worrying about the friendlies once more, and before she could get her mind set on phoning Tom Sermanni about a personal emergency, her mother called.

“Christen, I just heard the news,” Stacy began the call, “How are you both doing?”

Biting her lip, Christen took a breath as a wave of emotion welled up, “It’s been alright. Andie is drawing up adoption papers; Mal said she wanted us to. I’m just trying to figure out how to handle having to travel for the friendlies coming up. Mallory has school.”

“Honey, she’s in third grade and well ahead of her class,” Stacy assured, “You could call her teacher. I’m sure it will be just fine for her to miss a couple days. Otherwise, we could always take her for the week, though the soccer would probably cheer her up. Unless one of us needs to stay here with her, we’re heading there to see your first cap anyhow, so she could stick with us.”

“Thanks, mom,” Christen sighed with relief, “I’ll call her teacher. You’re right. Soccer would probably be a good distraction right now.”

Stacy reminded Christen firmly, “You two take care now and let us know if you need anything. You’re not alone in this, sweetheart.”

“I love you, mom,” Christen murmured.

“I love you too, Chrissy.”


	2. Chapter 2

A knock on the door startled Christen out of her daze. She moved from her perch on the arm of the couch, where she had been watching Mallory doze with The Sorcerer’s Stone leaning, open to the last pages, on her face.

Opening the door, Christen was shocked to find Becky on the other side of the door, with Tobin and Kelley right behind her.

“I called in reinforcements,” Tobin said lowly, “You sounded flustered last night.”

Oh yes. The voicemail.

Christen had panic-called Tobin in her haze of emotions on the way to pick up Mal.

It had, understandably, gone to voicemail as the midfielder slept.

Becky, ever the quiet, strong, solid presence, held her arms open for Christen to step into, allowing Christen a moment of solace while gently patting her hair.

“We brought some groceries, kid-friendly ones!” Kelley piped up, “And Broon vetted all of it before we actually got it, so it isn’t just Tobin and me being chaotic.”

“There should be enough in there to tide you over the next two days, and to pack some snacks for the flight to Florida,” Becky said, “We’re flying over with you. We’ve got you, Press.”

They all headed in, Tobin taking Christen’s hand and squeezing it as they walked behind Becky and Kelley. Tobin placed a kiss on Christen’s cheek, whispering softly, “I know you probably don’t remember calling me, but I just wanted to make sure you knew we had your back, and you’ve known Becky since magicJack and Kelley since Stanford and I just wanted to make sure you had—”

“Thank you, Tobin,” Christen murmured back, “You did perfect. I’m so thankful for you. For all of you.”

There was a warmth in her heart now, one she couldn’t quite describe, but could only thank the universe for bringing goodness into her life.

“Where’s the kid?” Tobin asked.

Christen gestured towards the couch, “She fell asleep reading. Makes sense. She had a really late night yesterday.”

“Harry Potter?” Tobin grinned as they got closer to the couch and saw the book, “Kid has good taste.”

“You two would get along swimmingly, Heath,” Christen said, “You’re pretty similar.”

Becky called Christen over, asking for help organizing everything correctly in Christen’s kitchen, before offering to make them all some dinner. As Becky started to get the ingredients ready, Kelley and Tobin amused themselves easily in one of their usual joke-filled conversations, both slouched next to the couch, careful not to jostle the sleeping kid.

“You guys didn’t have to do this,” Christen said sincerely, “Thank you, Becky.”

Becky looked up from the carrots and celery she was chopping for the pasta sauce, a warm smile on her face framed by her long blonde hair, “Of course, Christen. You’re a good friend, and you’ve been through so much in the past couple years. I promised you I’d have your back when we played together. Just because the league’s folded and been replaced, and we’re playing on different teams now doesn’t change that.”

“You’re too good to me,” Christen blushed and murmured.

“Not even close, Press. You deserve so much more than you’ve gotten, on and off the field,” Becky asserted, “Besides, Tobin was very invested in getting you some support. She really cares about you.”

Looking over at the midfielder seated with Kelley, Christen smiled, “She’s a good friend. It feels like I’ve known her a lot longer than I have. We met playing each other in college, sure, but it wasn’t until camp last year we actually became friends. It feels like it’s been so much longer.”

Becky smiled at the rookie she had met nearly three years ago now, watching Christen gently rouse the small child sleeping on her couch as she started the sauce in Christen’s largest saucepan. She was going to be just fine.

Before long, Tobin was chatting with a slightly drowsy Mallory about Harry Potter, exploring the girl’s favorite moments from the first book and sharing her own. Kelley was sprawled next to them, picking at lint from her socks and occasionally tossing some at Tobin.

Christen relaxed, seeing Mallory so at ease with her teammate. Setting the table for the five of them, Christen helped take individual plates of pasta to the table as Becky dished them up, covered with a heavenly-smelling meat sauce.

“Becky Sauerbrunn, you are a goddess,” Kelley exclaimed as the scent of dinner hit her, springing up to plop herself down at the table.

“Kell, that’s my spot,” Tobin snarked as she strode up to the table with Mallory, “Get off, you heathen!”

Becky rolled her eyes at that revelation, smiling as Mallory quietly went to wash her hands and showed Christen, as Christen prompted Kelley to sit instead at “her usual spot from college”.

The next two days went smoothly, the three teammates proving to be wonderful creators of comfortable situations that left Christen less time to worry and more time to laugh. Tobin was wonderful with Mallory, a steady but boisterous presence, laid back enough that Mal found herself laughing more often than not over some kind of joke or Harry Potter reference. Kelley knew exactly which buttons to press to make Christen roll her eyes and laugh the frustration or stress off. Becky was a wonderfully calming, steady presence that reminded Christen to call Tom to let him know about Mallory and the fact that they would both be with the team.

When all the arrangements had been made and everyone was packed up and ready to go the next morning, Christen offered to pick her friends up from their hotel the next day to drive them all to the airport for their flight to Florida, to which they all gladly agreed. Before the three of them left for the day, however, Tobin offered to stay with her and Mallory for the night, reasoning that it would be easier for the two of them to wrangle both the bags and a possibly very sleepy Mallory into the car and to the hotel and airport.

Something in Christen pushed her to jump and agree almost a second too quickly.

They bade Kelley and Becky goodnight, before Christen went to tuck Mal in for the night. They would have to be up very early the next morning to make it to the airport in time.

Christen sat on the edge of Mallory’s bed, a small twin in what had been Christen’s room when she and Kelley had shared the apartment in Kelley’s senior year and Christen’s junior year of college. She smoothed a hand over Mal’s forehead, kissing her on the head and dimming the lamp.

“Hey Mal, we’re going to Florida tomorrow, remember?” Christen asked softly, “The national team is playing a friendly against Ireland, and I’m playing with them.”

“For the first time ever!” Mal chirped, “I remember!”

“Sleep well, okay kid?” Christen tapped her on the nose, “Goodnight, Mal.”

“G’night, Chrissy,” Mal said, shifting from excited to sleepy within seconds.

Christen left the room, shutting the door quietly as she could behind her. Walking into the living room, she stilled when she saw Tobin with her fingers interlaced, her head bent, and words quietly being spoken.

“Lord, please bless and keep Chris and Mal especially. They’re both so good and have been through so much. I know you’ll do right by them, but I just wanted to put in an extra good word for them. They’re good ones, you know?” Tobin chuckled lightly, “I am so lucky to know them and make that kid smile. I see her smile, and see how much they both love each other, and I feel like I’m getting to watch the strength that You put in us to get through the hard times by Your grace and the gift we are given in our ability to love. Amen.”

Christen quickly wiped away the errant tear that had made a run for it down her cheek, smiling as she walked all the way into the living room.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but that was genuinely one of the sweetest things I have ever heard,” Christen admitted, “You’re so good, Tobin.”

A blush spread over Tobin’s face, up to the tips of her ears. Running her hands through her hair, she tried to muster up some words but came up empty.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch tonight, Heath,” Christen stated matter-of-factly, “You can take the bed. You’ve done us so many favors tonight.”

“I couldn’t take your bed, Chris,” Tobin protests, getting to her feet, “I’ll be fine on the couch.”

Christen shook her head, leading Tobin into her room as she responded, “We can share. We’re both adults. Come on, do you need something to sleep in? A toothbrush?”

When they got into Christen’s room, Tobin glanced around. The room was simple, the walls pretty bare and neutrally colored though the soft pink of her comforter and the collection of photo frames around the dresser and desk made the room feel so utterly Christen.

Christen pulled two sleep shirts and two pairs of boxers out of her drawers, tossing a worn and slightly faded Cardinals shirt to Tobin along with a pair of boxers.

“Seriously, Press?” Tobin shot Christen a challenging look.

Christen shrugged and smirked, “This is a Stanford household, Press. Suck it up.”

_Fuck_.

_Okay_.

_Shit_.

_Time to backpedal?_

Struggling to hide her blush, Christen just turned and took her t-shirt off, changing into her own pajamas, silently hoping that Tobin hadn’t caught her slip of tongue.

No such luck.

“Press, huh?” Tobin teased, “That’s a little presumptuous for the first time you get me in your bed, don’t you think?”

Flinging a pillow at Tobin, Christen huffed in embarrassment and ducked into the bathroom. When Tobin walked in, Christen had grabbed a new toothbrush from under the sink for her, labelling it with a black sharpie in block letters with her name.

“You know, hyphenating is an option,” Tobin said as she stood in the doorway of the bathroom.

“Oh my god, Tobin, shut up,” Christen sighed as she rolled her eyes, “Let’s go to bed, you goon.”


	3. Chapter 3

The field, in many ways, was where Christen felt most at home. In others, it was where she felt the most unbearable amounts of fear and pressure.

The goal was an ever-present feature. From the corner of her eye, or even behind her back, it loomed over her. It defined her purpose on the field, clearly delineating the bounds of success and failure. It would be all too easy for Christen to fold to those pressures right now. Right before her first cap. For it to all end before it even began.

One sight kept her out of her head, though. Dressed in a too-large Press jersey, Mallory ran ahead of her, gleefully chasing after a ball that Kelley and Tobin passed between them in a carefree game of floor monkey. Christen relished in the sun, just warm enough that the ground was cool, but not cold under her bare feet.

Reaching the sideline, Christen put her cleats on the ground and put them on, lacing them up while keeping an eye on Mallory, a small distance away.

The team loved her.

Kelley and Tobin roped a couple of the other more outgoing members of their team into being Mallory’s entertainment. Megan, particularly, had joined them with gusto in their raucous conversations and penchant for playing harmless pranks. The rest of the team was happy to shower the child with gentle warmth, offering hands to hold, smiles and hugs abound.

Christen was thankful. Mallory still withdrew into long stretches of quiet at times, waking up from nightmares where she called for her mother only to remain withdrawn for hours. Christen didn’t push her, making her comfortable and making sure she had everything she needed. Becky, her roommate for the game, would sit on the close side of her own bed and read aloud from one of the many books she brought, giving Mallory something pressure-less and steady to take her mind off things. Christen held Mallory at night, letting the girl fall asleep with her head on Christen’s chest, softly lulled to sleep by the vibrations of Christen’s sternum as she quietly sang Mal to sleep.

Soon, they were rounded up for warmups, Christen striding over quickly to where Mallory was just in time to see her nutmeg Tobin. The wide-eyed stare on the midfielder’s face was enough to send the whole team into unbridled laughter and Christen would give just about anything to keep that smile on Mallory’s face forever.

“Hey Mal,” Christen said as she stopped in front of the beaming girl, “We’re going to go do some warmups now. We’ll be right over there, and you can shout for me if you need anything, alright?”

Mallory nodded easily, her brow slightly furrowed as she futzed around with the ball at her feet. Even as Christen pulled Tobin and Kelley with her to join the team, Mal continued to occupy herself with the ball along the sidelines, chasing her own passes and weaving in tight curves as she dribbled.

The team fell into a familiar rhythm, moving onto passing and ball-handling. Christen and Becky paired up, testing each other in some one-on-one action, possession deftly switching between the two as they kept a keen eye on each other. Becky’s composure, as always, was serenely put together, belying nothing that would give Christen an idea of her next move. She redoubled her attempts after a few stolen balls, faking left, rolling the ball back, and cutting left once more when Becky edged in the opposite direction. The pair gave each other a brief hug before moving on to different drills for themselves, Becky patting her on the back as they passed each other.

As everyone was gradually getting ready to head back to the locker rooms to get ready for the game, Christen lined up a couple balls to take some last shots. She drove balls into every corner, shot two off the crossbar and took a couple from the sides of the goal before stopping, turning to look for Mallory and bid her goodbye for the moment.

Mallory ran into her arms as she walked towards Christen, accepting the kiss to her forehead gladly and wishing Christen the best for the game. The staff would make sure Mallory was seated right behind the player’s bench.

“You be careful, okay kid?” Christen lifted Mal’s chin with her finger as she spoke softly, “I’ll see you real soon.”

Mal kissed Christen’s cheek, wrapping her arms more tightly around the forward’s midsection as she chirped, “You’ll score a goal for me, won’t you Chrissy?”

Christen laughed, “I’ll do my best, kiddo. It’s only my first cap after all.”

Dawn was good enough to offer to take Mal to the stands, settling her in with the small backpack that Christen had packed. With her gaze trailing after the girl as Dawn walked with her, Christen finally headed into the locker room.

“You ready, Presi?” Nicole asked as Christen walked into the locker room, the usually reserved keeper giving her a small smile.

Christen paused, trying to catch up to how her body was feeling before hesitantly replying, “As I’ll ever be. I’ve been working for this, waiting for this, a long time.”

“We’ve all got your back, kid,” the goalkeeper assured, “You’re good. You’re going to do great.”

She strode back to her locker after thanking Nicole, putting her shin guards in and changing into her kit shorts. Putting her hair back in a bun, Christen wound her hair elastic tight around its base to secure it.

Becky came up behind her, handing her a headband with a smile, “Made you this from my lucky pre-wrap. I’ve got your back, Christen.”

Christen hugged the centerback tightly after she put it in her hair, thanking her. Becky was a veritable wall on that back line and Christen trusted her to get them the ball back no matter what.

“You’re the best, Becky,” Christen said as they both moved to finish getting ready.

The next few minutes stilled for Christen as she sat in front of her locker. Staring at the jersey that bore her last name, the shirt red and white striped, Christen could hardly believe that her first cap with the team was finally happening.

She wasn’t ready.

She had been working towards this for years. She’d played on the U-23 team and had worked tirelessly through Chadwick and Stanford. Every single game ended with her analyzing exactly what she could have done better and resolving to never make the same mistake twice. Every goal she scored was a lesson just as much as every shot she missed had been. There had been a time she had looked at Kelley and other players in their age range get called up while she had remained merely a collegiate athlete.

Now that she was here, she didn’t feel ready at all.

She hadn’t reached the point of confidence that Abby seemed to exude yet; the point where a touch on the ball was made with certainty and the knowledge that it would more often than not find the back of the net.

She always worried, every single time she touched the ball, that it would go wide. That it would land right in the hands of the keeper.

That, god forbid, she would somehow have her first ever goal be an own goal.

“Chris, you’re not going to score an own goal,” a voice cut through her internal spiral, “You are literally not even going to be on the right side of the field for that.”

Christen simply looked up incredulously, her eyes meeting the soft brown of Tobin’s.

“You didn’t say it out loud, I just figured that was eventually where your brain would go as you continued to stress yourself out,” Tobin assured, “You are so good on the ball. You find those chances most of us don’t see. You cut through defenders like butter because they can’t keep pace with you. You’re going to be amazing today.”

Grasping Christen’s hand, Tobin placed her own left wrist in it, showing a thin strip of tape around it.

The words on it were small, the cramped upper case of Tobin’s handwriting spelling out “C & M”.

“Today is for the both of you,” Tobin said with a grin, “Now let’s get on out there and kick some Scottish butt.”

Tobin pulled her along to line up in the tunnel, the whole team patting her on the back and cheering her on as they headed out of the locker room. Tom had briefed them on the plan for the game. This was it.

For Mal.

Just another 90 minutes. She’d played those before, many times over.

Breathe, Christen.

Scotland had tried to take a shot on goal within the first fifteen seconds, catching Abby off a stumble and taking possession of the ball. It had thankfully gone very wide but Christen took a second still to quieten her mind. She took a glance behind the bench, catching a glimpse of Mallory’s bright eyes, and her breath came a little easier for a moment.

Half a minute later she saw Alex wind up for a cross towards her. Instinct took her, the ball meeting her right foot before bouncing back against a defender, right back towards her. She got her head on it, though it simply landed in the keeper’s hands.

She shook it off. It was early in the game. Not even a minute in.

She just had to keep her eye out for other chances.

Somehow a defender had cleared a ball right to her feet at the top of the box. She took a single touch on it to still it far enough in front of her to get a quick wind up, before striking it at straight and true as she could.

The keeper leapt, her hands outstretched above her.

The ball kept sailing over her hands, spinning as it hit the back of the net, dead center.

A goal in her first cap.

Abby, Ali, and Becky had gotten to her first. Kelley, Tobin, and the rest of the team flocked over soon after. She took the hugs and the pats on her head with a gleeful grin, blowing a kiss towards Mallory in the stands as the little girl jumped up and down.

Her next goal had come from Tobin. A sailing cross of Tobin’s left foot that the Scottish defender in front of her had come just short of deflecting before Christen got her head on it, pummeling it into the goal.

Tobin sent her a wink from across the field, that easy lopsided grin on her face that hardly turned up when she was on the field and fully focused. Christen could almost swear she could hear Mallory’s cheering over the crowd.

She was on top of the world.

The game concluded 4-1, Christen’s legs burning in the best way possible. She ran over to the stands to pick Mal up just moments after the final whistle, and the little girl was chattering a mile a minute with glee at the game she’d just seen.

“Chrissy! You scored! Twice!” Mal screamed.

“All for you, Mallory,” Christen replied.

“Yeah Chrissy, you scored twice!” Tobin chimed in as she walked up behind Mal, “In your first cap! Neither of them were own goals, too.”

Christen rolled her eyes good-naturedly, retorting, “You’re real smug, aren’t you Heath? I’m shocked how good your service was after you were nutmegged by a nine-year-old during warmups.”

“You think I’m hot shi–stuff, Press,” Tobin volleyed back, “And you’re welcome.”

As they talked, Mal jetted towards Kelley and Megan on the sidelines. The women started chasing the girl once they saw her, the exhaustion from playing a full game rolling off them as they heard the pealing giggle that they sparked.

“Thank you for that assist,” Christen stammered, suddenly shy, “It was such a good ball. I hate headers and somehow I still got it in.”

Tobin shrugged, the lopsided grin returning full force, “At your service, madame.”

_She didn’t. _

“Get it?” Tobin poked, “_Service_?”

Christen groaned, rolling her eyes at Tobin’s antics.

Then she saw it out of the corner of her eye.

Mallory was running full speed across the field, Kelley and Megan hot on her heels but not quite close enough to catch up with her. A ball was headed right for Mallory, chipped absentmindedly by a Scottish player as she was leaving the field, rebounding off the post and gaining speed.

Christen took off in a sprint.

“Chris?”

Tobin whipped around to follow Christen’s sudden movement, watching as the forward grabbed Mal around the waist, shifting midway through the dive to land on the soft part of her shoulder, cushioning their fall so Mal landed on top of her. A few inches away, where Mallory had been a moment ago, the ball contacted the ground hard before Becky trapped it and rolled it to the sidelines harmlessly.

The players left on the field watched, stunned, as Christen immediately sprung to her feet to check Mallory over.

Tobin could see the tears that had already welled up in Christen’s eyes.

“Press, you coming for Barnhart’s job?” Kelley joked, coming up by the pair together with Rapinoe.

All Christen could manage was a weak chuckle, her hands still checking Mallory over even though the kid was on her feet and giggling.

“Chrissy dove like a keeper!” Mallory squealed, “It was so cool! I was the ball!”

Christen was still shaken, that much Tobin could tell. She strode up to them, brushing the back of her hand against Christen’s in an effort to break her gently out of her shock.

Bending in front of Mallory, Tobin offered her a piggyback ride back to the locker room with a flourish, “Your chariot, my lady.”

The girl took the opportunity to clamber onto Tobin’s back, letting the midfielder carry her into the tunnel while Christen numbly followed next to them.

They had gotten almost all the way through the tunnel before Christen spoke, “It’s terrifying.”  


“What is?” Tobin looked at Christen, wishing more than anything she could smooth the furrow between her brows, her gaze stalling as it fell on Christen’s eyes, caught up in the grey that always seemed to take over the green when Christen was troubled.

Christen shivered, her voice slightly shaking and quiet, “I don’t understand. It feels like—it’s almost like my heart is walking around outside my chest, and it nearly kills me every time something hurts it or threatens it.”

Tobin reached a hand over to squeeze Christen’s hand reassuringly, speaking lowly, “That’s love, Chris. You love her like she’s your kid.”


	4. Chapter 4

Once the Algarve Cup was over and they had played all their international friendlies for another three months, Christen had to more realistically relook at their living situation now that Mallory was to be with her full-time. The school year had just ended, and for the first time in months, Christen wasn’t concerned about figuring out when she could take Mallory off to Portugal or various other cities when she wasn’t in school, or figuring out ways for her parents to watch the child when games and the school week just did not match up. Now, it was simply a matter of being in Chicago for most, if not all of the summer.

It seemed selfish to completely uproot Mallory from the only city she had ever really lived in, but the Red Stars weren’t trading Christen anytime soon. Given her streak of goals in her first year with the national team, the Red Stars were more determined than ever to start her during games and give her the opportunities to grow within the league.

It had taken a week of torturing herself over the decision.

She had sat up late into the night, her laptop the only light still switched on in the apartment, looking into schools in Chicago for Mallory and comparing them to her current one. Sometimes, often, Mallory would be curled up next to her in bed after having fallen asleep talking to Christen. Christen sometimes didn’t have the heart to send the child away when they spoke softly next to each other in Christen’s room right before Mal’s bedtime, particularly when Mallory’s voice quivered every so often and she talked about her last memories of her time with her parents.

At some point on those nights, Christen would put her laptop away and strain to carry the nearly ten-year-old back to her room to tuck her in.

One of those nights, Mallory stirred in Christen’s arms, saying something that shocked Christen so deeply she nearly dropped the girl.

“Chrissy, when are we moving to Chicago?” Mallory mumbled, cuddling into Christen’s hold.

Christen’s step stuttered, forcing her to pause just before Mallory’s door as she struggled to get her next words out, “Would you mind us doing that, Mal? You’ve spent all your life in California.”

“Wanna go with you,” Mallory responded, the exhaustion slurring her words, “You’ve been worryin’ about it. Wanna live with you all the time, Mama. We go to Chicago.”

_Mama_?

“Mallory?”

Christen waited, her breath hitched in her throat, for some sort of response from the child in her arms, but when none came, she swallowed thickly, accepting that the deadweight she held signaled that Mallory had fallen back asleep.

Nudging the door open with her elbow, Christen walked in and set Mallory on her own bed and tucked her in under the covers. Placing a soft kiss on the girl’s forehead, Christen allowed the word to turn itself over in her head repeatedly.

_Mama._

“Goodnight, Mallory,” Christen whispered into the dark, “I love you, kid. So much.”

Christen padded out of Mallory’s room, settling herself into bed only to find her mind still running in overdrive. Mallory had called her Mama, after all.

Certainly, she had long begun to love Mallory as her child. Tobin had astutely pointed that out during the trip on which she had gotten her first and second caps with the national team.

She just never expected Mallory to think of her as anything but the oddly close aunt-slash-babysitter who had been there as long as she could remember. After all, Mal had loved her own parents, and while she held a sadness or perhaps resentment that she didn’t quite understand towards her father for choosing his grief over her, she remembered having that family that doted on her so much.

Christen couldn’t give her that.

Christen couldn’t be that.

No matter how much she wanted to.

Christen’s job involved massive amounts of travel, particularly after being called up. Even just within her capacity as a NWSL player, Christen found herself on planes and buses far more often than most would consider normal.

Christen lived alone. She had never fully recognized how much of her time (that wasn’t taken up by soccer) had been spent on Mallory and her family since before she graduated college. Apart from a handful of friends she had maintained since her days at Stanford and some of her teammates, past and present, Christen didn’t have much by way of a social life.

This wasn’t the white picket fence, nor the stable suburban life. This wasn’t a situation where Christen could rely on a spouse to step in when she was busy, away, or just exhausted.

The more she thought about it, the more Christen realized she had never given herself the chance to even consider the possibility that Mallory would see her as a parental figure, even while she was quite literally working to adopt the child.

In the hazy dark of her unlit room, Christen reached for her phone on her nightstand, barely catching it as she swept it clear off the surface.

A ringing sounded on the line before she had fully processed the fact that she had just called someone at eleven at night.

“Chris?” A bleary voice sounded over the phone, hoarse from sleep, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is Mal okay?”

“We’re both alright, don’t worry,” Christen immediately jumped to assure, “She just– um. She– um. Mallory called me Mama tonight.”

“Chris, that’s wonderful!” Tobin exclaimed.

“She was half asleep and I was carrying her to bed. She’d asked before if her last name would be Press now that I was adopting her, but I never thought this would happen,” Christen began, the words quickly gaining momentum as they spilled from her lips, “I don’t want to replace her mother, Tobin. I can’t do that. I’m doing this alone, Toby. I can’t give her the family she deserves.”

Tobin hushed her gently over the line, jumping to allay her fears, “You’re plenty of the family she deserves, Chris. You love her so damn much. And the whole team loves her. Even in Chicago, you’ve got Chalupny and JJ. She’s got love enough for a whole herd of little girls and it’s only growing. You’re not replacing her mother, Chris, you’re just giving her more love, love only you can give her.”

“I’m sorry for calling this late, Tobin,” Christen sighed, recognizing exactly how late it was for them both.

“You’re just fine, Chris. Anytime,” Tobin murmured softly, “I’m always here for both of you. We were going to call each other in the morning anyway.”

“I’m moving us to Chicago full-time,” Christen revealed, “I’m was thinking of selling this place, but I might have to keep it around as a home base of sorts for January camps and the like. If I keep getting called up.”

“You’re gonna keep getting called up,” Tobin assured instantaneously, “You’re definitely gonna keep getting called up. But moving to Chicago is a good thing. You won’t have to fly back and forth so often, and it’ll give Mal a stable place where you are.”

Christen felt the corners of her eyes crinkle in a gentle unconscious smile as she spoke, “Thank you, Tobin. You always know what to say to make my brain stop spiraling.”

“You’re doing so well, _Mama_,” Tobin’s grin was evident over the phone as she spoke, “Even if this does mean that you and the munchkin are going to be that much further away from me.”

“We’ll keep calling you,” Christen suggested, “Twice a week over Skype like we’d talked about at the end of the friendlies. We both miss you. We’re playing the Thorns in less than a month, too, so you’ll see us then.”

Neither of them fully knew what the last thing either said to the other. Christen simply woke up early the next morning as she always did, opening her eyes to find her phone on the pillow beside her, the call still going. Immediately, the smile from the night before returned with a vengeance.

She was screwed, she knew.


	5. Chapter 5

The move to Chicago was smoother than Christen had thought it would be. Julie made plans to move out of their shared apartment when she had gotten engaged the same week Christen decided to move Mallory to Chicago with her. Mallory’s things were quickly packed up, while the small apartment was thoroughly cleaned, left in good condition to be returned to during national team trainings.

They’d landed in O’Hare in the mid-morning, Mallory thrilled with the prospect of setting up her new room exactly how she wanted it.

Walking out of baggage claim, Christen was moments away from pulling her phone out to order a Lyft back to the apartment when a car pulled up in front of them.

“Your chariot, ladies,” A familiar voice exited the window as it rolled down, revealing the grinning face of one Tobin Powell Heath.

“How—”

Tobin shrugged, hopping out of the car and helping them with their bags as Christen tried and failed to process the other woman’s presence. Just as her brain began to catch up with the fact that Tobin was here, in Chicago, with them, on a day she was very definitely meant to be in Portland, Christen’s eyes were drawn to the defined lines of Tobin’s arms as she picked up each suitcase, her triceps flexing first before her biceps tightened as well to lift the suitcases into the trunk.

When they got into the car, Christen found herself staring once more, now not at Tobin’s physique but at the warmth in her eyes and the slant of her smile. There was an ease in the air within the vehicle that Christen relished in.

It was always a little easier to breathe around Tobin.

Christen didn’t have to try to fill the silence. It didn’t feel awkward or cold. It didn’t make Christen feel like she had to find something for them to all focus on. They could just sit in the same space and feel at ease.

But of course, the silence didn’t last very long with Mallory finally reunited with one of the people who made her most comfortable and childlike.

Mal and Tobin chattered a mile a minute, the older woman letting Mallory dominate the conversation in a way that was so unlike the child. All Mal could talk about were her plans for her new room, finally having a space for herself at a point in her life where the permanence and ownership of it felt special.

They spoke about Mallory’s ideas, the child prompting Tobin for details of her own childhood bedroom.

Christen sat back and reveled in the details of Tobin’s childhood that she was being made privy to, but also in the realization of how much she already knew.

Tobin’s penchant for messiness and collecting.

The posters that Tobin put up on her walls, Ronaldinho among them.

Tobin’s artwork, scattered around her room with her assortment of trophies she never quite knew what to do with.

The soccer balls and equipment that had an assigned bin in the corner of her room but somehow always found their way underfoot when her mom came in with laundry.

About ten minutes into the drive, the quick-paced conversation petered out, Mallory’s words growing further apart as she nodded off. Tobin eased her foot on the gas pedal and steadied the steering wheel a little more surely, determined to keep the young girl from being jostled against the window where her head rested.

“You’re in Chicago—”

Christen couldn’t quite form the thought that she wanted to get across, her half-question trailing off without any real conviction behind it.

“We have a short break between practices and games, I figured you could use some help settling in,” Tobin said easily, “JJ volunteered her car.”

Christen sat quietly, her smile close-lipped and shaky in the way it tended to be when she was overwhelmed.

“Chris, you’re not in this alone, yeah?” Tobin assured, a hand briefly resting on her thigh and squeezing softly, “So many people are here for you, even if they don’t live in Chicago. I mean, Becky and Lys sent me with housewarming stuff even though they know you aren’t moving into a new place.”

Tobin spoke again in the quiet, “And I’m here for you.”

Something had shifted after that phone call that lasted till the morning. An intimacy had formed in the space between their friendship and the odd tension that had existed for a while.

Leaning over the center console, Christen kissed Tobin’s cheek shyly, “Thank you, Tobin.”

Both sat in the thrumming quiet for a while, resisting the pull towards each other that would close the final distance between them. Christen pulled her ponytail out of its elastic, allowing the curls to fall free. Her hands came up to part it, surely and precisely putting it back in braids.

“I’ve always loved your braids,” Tobin softly uttered.

Christen secured her first braid with the ponytail elastic. The words hung in the air, weighty with unsaid intentions.

Christen’s smile quirked as she secured the second braid with a spare tie.

“I’ve noticed you stare a little more when I wear my hair like that,” Christen offered in return.

Tobin let out a breathy chuckle, running her hand through her hair as her face warmed.

“It’s no secret I’m drawn to you, Chris,” Tobin responded, “You’re sunshine.”

“You know I only notice because I look for you just as much as you do for me when we’re in the same place,” Christen offered, “On the pitch, hanging out with the team, no matter where, my eyes look for you.”

Christen placed her hand on Tobin’s thigh as she murmured, “I think we were always inevitable, don’t you think?”

“You’ve been one of my best friends for so long, but you were always something a little different,” Tobin grinned, “The start of something new, if you will.”

And just like that, the moment broke into laughter as Christen rolled her eyes, “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”

“Just like you can’t resist me, Press, admit it.”

“It’s convenient that we can’t resist each other,” Christen smirked.

A small voice drew both their attentions soon after, breaking them from the soft contentedness borne of finally crossing that line, “Mama, Toby, are we there yet?”

Christen beamed, as she always did now when she heard Mallory call her that, softly responding to the sleepy girl, “Soon, kiddo. We’re nearly there.”

“Good, I wanna go home—” Mallory trailed off once more, sleep drawing her back in.

“One day, home’s gonna be with you too,” Christen offered hesitantly, quickly lapsing into frenzied backpedaling, “If you’ll have us. Not now, of course, it’s too soon to ask that of you, of us, but—”

Tobin squeezed Christen’s hand that still rested on her leg and cut in quickly, “We’re inevitable, remember? You’re not gonna scare me off, Chris. I’m right here. I’m in this. The whole nine yards. My family already loves you, and your mother might just like me more than you. We've been inching towards forever for a long time, love, no turning back now.”


End file.
